


What's In A Name?

by Esperata



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Patricide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Sharing a Bed, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Thor's attempts to include his friends in some of his cultural ways backfire spectacularly and he doesn't know how to fix it.





	What's In A Name?

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of posts recently regarding how MCU has ignored Bruce's traumatic backstory. My guess is that they think its too dark for most audiences but anyhow, here's my look into how the Avengers might have to deal with it. And by Avengers I basically mean Thor.

Thor was watching cartoons when Stark and Cap came wandering in.

“What can I say?” Tony was shrugging. “I’m my father’s son.”

Steve pointed an admonishing finger at him.

“You forget, I knew your father.”

As both men sat Thor glanced across to them.

“You knew Stark’s father?” he asked.

“Briefly,” Cap demurred. “Its not like Howard and I were close or anything.”

“His name was Howard?”

Tony cast a brief glance across before answering.

“Yes.”

He hoped his curt reply and focused gaze on the TV would put Thor off the subject but the god merely grinned, delighted with his new knowledge.

“Then perhaps I should call you Tony Howardson!”

Tony grimaced.

“I think he’d prefer I kept the Stark family name,” he hinted.

Thor turned determinedly to Steve.

“And what was your father’s name?” he asked eagerly.

Steve looked quickly to Tony’s fixed profile before facing Thor. It was probably best for him to distract the god himself.

“Joseph. He died before I was born. In World War I.”

“I am sure he died a noble death,” Thor avowed seriously before his grin returned. “Steve Josephson.”

Steve forced a grin. Thor chuckled to himself and then turned his attention back to the TV. Stark and Rogers exchanged a knowing look and thanked the stars that Thor had a short attention span. They then forgot all about the incident.

♦

“Banner?” Thor cautiously glanced around the lab for the scientist before spotting him at a microscope. “Are you busy?”

Bruce looked up with a smile.

“Not so busy that I mind an interruption,” he suggested, stretching his neck muscles out. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing in particular.” Thor aimed for a nonchalant stroll across the room, hiding his excited smile. “I just wanted to see my good friend Bruce Brianson.”

Bruce stumbled and stopped his approach, gripping onto the lab desk suddenly.

“W-what did you call me?”

Thor smiled, pleased to have surprised his friend with his knowledge.

“Brianson,” he repeated. “Because your father’s name was Brian and on Asgard-” He stopped abruptly as he saw Bruce curl in on himself as though punched. “Bruce?”

The other man didn’t respond and Thor’s concern grew as he heard the ragged breathing and realised Bruce _couldn’t_ respond.

“Bruce?” He strode across but then stopped, unsure what to do. Bruce was gripping the desk so tightly his knuckles were white and his breath was coming in such short bursts that Thor wondered he got enough air. His hands fluttered vaguely but hesitated over touching. When Banner was holding back Hulk it was best to avoid contact.

Yet Thor could see no signs of green. Only a growing pallor and unsteadiness, his breathing increasingly shallow as he gasped for air.

Thor turned to the ceiling.

“Magic voice! I need assistance.” He broke off as Bruce swayed alarmingly and he quickly grabbed a chair for Bruce to collapse into.

Banner’s head dropped down between his knees and if it weren’t for the hands clutching desperately at his own hair Thor might have thought he’d fainted.

“Bruce…”

The sound of the lift doors opening was a welcome relief and Thor spun to beg the new arrival’s help.

“Thor?” Tony stepped forward with a frown before seeing Bruce. “Fuck! What did you do?”

“I do not know.” Thor may as well not have replied at all for all the attention Stark paid him. Tony was immediately past the god and kneeling before his friend.

“Bruce? Bruce, I need you to look at me. Come on. Look up. See? Its me.” He smiled as wide frightened brown eyes blinked at him, barely focusing. “That’s right. Now you’re safe here Bruce. It’s okay. Take a deep breath. With me. Inhale. That’s good.”

Thor fidgeted nearby as Tony kept up his soothing chatter. He watched as Bruce took hesitant breaths, in and out, slowly growing in length until a touch of colour returned to his cheeks. Then he felt his heart break as he saw those gentle eyes flood with tears.

“Tony?”

“Shhsh. Its okay. Come on. Let’s get you to your room.” He extended a hand, palm upwards, and Bruce placed his arm on it so Tony could support him upright.

As the scientists slowly made their way towards the lift, Thor debated whether to speak or not. Then Bruce stopped and tilted his head towards him, though without making eye contact.

“Sorry Thor,” he mumbled.

“Do not apologise. I only hope you will be alright now.”

Bruce nodded vaguely.

“Yeah. Just need some sleep I guess.”

Tony threw a dirty look to Thor before tugging Bruce into motion.

“You’ll feel better for a rest,” he agreed to Bruce.

Thor watched them disappear into the lift. He knew he had somehow caused Bruce’s distress yet he had no idea how. The feeling was worse because, having caused distress, he had been clueless as to how to alleviate it.

Perhaps Bruce was right not to view him as anything other than a friend. Thor’s heart sunk. Perhaps it would be better for Bruce if he did not even allow them to get that close.

♦

Thor had gone to bed early and crashed out into an oblivious sleep. His emotions had been tumultuous and his thoughts whirling so that his only respite seemed to be in slumber. His last thought had been that he hoped Bruce found a similar comfort in rest.

He was awoken though after a few hours by a soft knocking. So light that anyone unused to being alert for danger might have slept through it. Thor woke immediately.

“Who is there?”

There was a hesitation before the door crept open and a familiar grey tousled head of hair came into view.

“Bruce!” His tone was soft even through his surprise.

Bruce shifted himself fully into the room and carefully shut the door.

“Did I… ah… wake you?”

“I’ve had all the sleep I need,” Thor assured him. “What of you? Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah.” Bruce ran a hand into his hair and rubbed awkwardly. “I’m sorry you saw me like that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Thor blinked. It was clearly more than being caught by surprise but he wasn’t about to call Bruce on it.

“It is no matter,” he said instead. “I am only relieved to find you recovered. You are recovered?” he suddenly added. “Or are you here in need of assistance?”

“No, no.” Bruce pottered forward a few steps. “I just felt bad that you had to deal with that and I… wanted to apologise.”

“Please, Bruce, no apology is necessary. I am only sorry I was unable to assist you properly.”

An awkward silence fell as Thor sat in his bed and watched Bruce nodding vaguely.

“Sit with me?” Thor suggested. “So I might be assured we are still friends?”

“Of course we are!” Bruce moved unhesitatingly forward and sat at the end of Thor’s bed. “You didn’t do anything _wrong_ Thor. Its just that… some subjects… if I’m not prepared for them… can bring back some unpleasant memories.”

Bruce fiddled with the bed sheets, not looking at Thor even in the dim light. Thor quickly assessed what precisely he’d said and came to a single conclusion.

“Families,” he hazarded. “Can be difficult.”

Again Bruce nodded but kept his gaze on his fingers. Thor huffed out a breath, relieved to have made this progress.

“Believe me Banner, if anyone understands how problematic families can be its me. My brother has repeatedly tried to kill me throughout the years and I did actually kill my sister.”

“Better a sister than your father,” Bruce murmured so quietly that Thor at first wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly. Then he saw the rigid tension in the other man’s frame and realised Bruce was waiting for a reaction.

Thor paused a second to consider his response.

“Bruce,” he spoke gently, “if there is one thing I am sure of… it is that you are a good man.”

Bruce automatically shook his head but he did raise his eyes to Thor’s and the god made sure to hold that gaze intently as he continued.

“If you have taken a life then I know it was not a choice on your part but a necessity. Your own guilt on the matter proves you had no malicious intent.”

He could see Bruce’s eyes shimmering and feared the man would retreat. With bated breath he shifted on the bed to make room and patted the space to invite Bruce over. It was several long breaths before Bruce made his decision and shimmied up the bed to curl next to Thor on the pillows.

Thor remained sitting, resisting the urge to wrap himself protectively around Bruce. He looked unusually small and vulnerable curled on the king size bed yet Thor knew he would not appreciate a hug. He’d told him once that he didn’t like the trapped feeling of being caught in an embrace and, while Thor mourned that Bruce was unable to enjoy such a simple pleasure, he always tried to respect those barriers.

For a while neither spoke.

Then quietly, Bruce began.

“He used to beat me… call me a monster…”

Thor listened in growing horror as Bruce’s memories came tumbling out. It seemed that now he’d begun Bruce was incapable of filtering himself. The words tumbled out, sometimes with determined focus yet at others with stuttering hesitance.

He spoke of his father’s obsession with his bad genetic inheritance, the violence that met any attempt to demonstrate his worth, his mother’s valiant yet ultimately doomed attempts to shield him.

The terror that permeated so deeply into Bruce’s being, the growing belief that his father must be right, the isolation from everyone around him who could never know that he was an abomination or they too would turn on him.

And he spoke of that last night with his father. The unholy surge of anger utterly beyond his power to control. Of how he’d been unaware of what he’d done until afterwards. That he still couldn’t remember exactly what had happened.

“The blood Thor,” he mumbled, now burying his face into the pillow. “On her grave.”

The words dried up as the tears came and Bruce shook, keeping his face pressed down and his shame hidden.

Thor felt on the verge of tears himself. He could not begin to comprehend the unremitting agony his friend had endured and his soul ached to do something to ease his suffering now.

Ordinarily he would have enveloped Bruce in a hug yet he reminded himself that would only serve to heighten the man’s discomfort. So he did the next thing he might have done. He leant down and placed a soft kiss into the messy hair.

“Bruce,” he murmured, placing another kiss and another. “Bruce.”

The man wriggled suddenly and latched his arms about Thor’s waist, burying his tear streaked face into his side. Thor was momentarily startled but then he rested his hands lightly upon him, relieved beyond measure to feel a slight relaxation. He took the invitation to stroke soothingly and placed the occasional extra kiss to his head.

Silence gradually fell again as the tears ceased. Thor continued with his soft touches, having no incentive to stop, and Bruce seemed to melt further against him. He wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“Sorry.” The word was so quiet and muffled Thor wasn’t at all sure he’d heard it right. “I didn’t mean to come in here and burden you with all that.”

“It is no burden. I am honoured you have shared this with me.” Thor hesitated. “You are a far stronger man than I ever gave you credit for.”

Bruce pushed himself upright suddenly.

“Because I killed someone?” he asked aghast.

Thor reached out instinctively and cupped his cheek.

“No. For carrying the weight of his expectations so long. For supporting such a level of guilt without faltering. For remaining a good man despite every opportunity to fall.”

Bruce ducked his eyes away but didn’t retreat from the hand on his face.

“I’m not a good man.”

“You are,” Thor insisted. “A bad person would have given in to the Hulk’s anger… and I begin to see now that he was not of your creation. Would a bad man have sought atonement as you have? Would he have put aside his fear to stand up to those who would oppress the innocent?”

Bruce huffed a small laugh at that.

“There probably aren’t many people in New York who qualify as ‘innocent’.”

Thor smiled.

“All the greater then that you have risked your life for those who not all would say deserve it.”

“Hardly risked my life. Or did you miss the part where the Other Guy spit a bullet out?”

Bruce’s gaze met his again, this time full of challenge. Thor found himself caressing the cheek even as he stared into those deep eyes.

“Risked your sanity,” he amended. “Risked your conscience.” He leant forward carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to those inviting lips before resting their foreheads together. “You are a good man Bruce.”

“Thor… I…”

“Have I been too familiar?”

“No.” The word came out as an exhale against Thor’s lips. “I just… don’t understand.”

“You are tired. This is a conversation best saved until morning.”

Bruce nodded as he with some reluctance pulled away.

“Guess I’ll…”

“You may stay here,” Thor suggested. “The bed is large enough.”

He could see the growing lethargy warring with Bruce’s innate instinct for distance.

“Alright.”

Thor let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and promptly shifted down and across to allow Bruce space. There was another brief hesitation before Bruce lay down cautiously.

Thor watched him, seeing the tension in the back that was facing him and wondered if it might not have been kinder to allow Bruce to return to his own room.

“Thor?”

“Yes?”

“Would you… I don’t suppose… I mean… could you… hug me?”

Thor hardly dared believe his ears and shimmied himself closer as if to a skittish animal. When he slid his arms about Bruce though he felt the other man relax into his hold with a sigh. Thor pressed his face to those short curls and inhaled gratefully.

“Better?” he asked, placing another kiss to his crown.

“Much.” Bruce’s voice was slurring slightly and moments later he was asleep.

Thor held him tenderly and silently vowed that no harm would come to him while he could do anything to prevent it. In the morning he would explain as much to Bruce. Assure him that he no longer had to face anything alone. If he wished. Thor would offer himself completely to Bruce.

Placing a final sleepy kiss onto his bed companion Thor closed his eyes with a smile.

“I love you,” he pledged.


End file.
